


Let Me Fall in Love With You

by FreelandRome



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor Likes That, Alastor is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood and Gore, Boys In Love, But It's Kind of Twisted, Comfort, Drunkenness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Fantasizing, Fights, First Dates, First Meetings, Forced Kissing, Hell, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Love Letters, M/M, Names, Night Clubs, Non-Consensual Touching, Obsessive Behavior, Oh My God, Please save Husk Please, Poor Bastard Dies, Punching, Reconciliation, Sex Positive Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Singing, Strangers to Lovers, Swearing, Sweet, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Lust
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:00:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23554954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreelandRome/pseuds/FreelandRome
Summary: Alastor has been in Hell for a long while so nothing surprises him anymore... Except on one of his strolls where he meets a peculiar and rare beauty. He doesn't know how to feel about it. Is it love? Probably. Even he can't tell.
Relationships: Alastor/Husk (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 40
Kudos: 218





	1. Let Me Fall in Love With You (Right Now)

**Author's Note:**

> This is for RadioHusk week, that I totally missed because my computer was a piece of crap. Can I still participate? I have good shit. Relatively. Meh.

Alastor walked down the path through the woods at the right moment. Toothy, alligator Cheshire of a smile flitting in the low light. His outfit made it easy for him to blend in to the surroundings, the foliage of dead, decaying leaves masked him in deep shadows of orange and red. The woods would be barren. Without fail, nothing grew here for long. The territory was the only stretch of flourishing wild lands that kept up sparse flora. A perfect place to stage and stash a murder. These woods kept the Radio Demon spellbound by the way the Sinners would yowl and scream inside and around the woods. Tonight was no different... Well, he had been wrong before.

Sprang from the woods was indeed a squawking sinner. Literally. It was a bird on a genus origin Alastor knew nothing of, but it was running. And it was running to him. Beside himself, Alastor did not move, did not beat the sinner away or show interest in the abandoned pleas. All he did was tilt his head to the side, his smile subduing as more closed, eyebrow arched in what could be confusion as he tried to make sure they did not touch him.

“You gotta help me! Please man! PLEASE!,” He wailed, feathers going everywhere as he tried to get Alastor to respond, “He’s gonna kill me! He already ripped off my feathers! You gotta save me!” Alastor looked the poor gent over, seeing red intermingling in sea of blue and yellow.

The green eyed bird was trying to get closer to the deer demon, to grab at him for leverage as its legs went underneath him. Alastor looked at the male bird, cleared his throat unhurried like and said, “My poor fellow sinner...”, Vindictive and snide were not the terms to be used as he poshly straightened his clothes and tempered his voice, “Whom is trying to kill you? After all, why would you go out into these woods and not expect to be attacked while on a stroll?” Alastor’s chest inflated as he swatted away the sinner’s grabby hands. He had no patience for this. The buffoon had ruined his quiet, he wanted it back.

“You don’t understand! He--” A hissed snarl came from behind the two of them. Alastor’s ears came to attention of the sudden sound, as well as the rustle of under brush. There was stillness for all of four seconds when without warning a massive flurry of red and grey came thrashing out of the leaves and branches. Alastor suspected the creature be a lycanthrope of a kind. Such creatures were hellspawns and not uncommon when walking through the hollows, yet on second glance he noticed the form of the beast was not of canine, but of a felidae visage. It was slender but toned. Furry yet feathery at the same time. Paws larger than Alastor’s whole hands were decorated with deadly, serrated knives at each tip. It hissed, spat, snarled, growled wildly as it sped towards them.

Alastor shoved the imbecile off his path at the same time the beast pounced on the sinner, who had been screaming the whole time. He continued to do as the feline began to rip the sinner into pieces; ivory claws going decorated with blood the color of red wine, teeth plunged into the poor beast’s flabby skin, tearing it in excess as the muscles and tendon came free with a wet squelch. “Help! Help me please! Oh God, why is this happening to me?!!” He brayed reaching out a claw to Alastor, him hoping he would reach with his own to save him.

The large cat bit down on the arm, a hard crackling could be heard as the deer demon was certain he heard bones breaking. The screams confirmed as the limb went limp while it began to bite in and chew the limb right off his body. A weak sob came from the poor creature as it was wrenched from its socket, down the gullet of the cat. Alastor’s smile, he found, began to widen as he took part -visually- in the blood splatter and dismemeberment of the poor soul. He even giggled when the cat demon’s claws went right into the gut to slit gashes into the meat there. The cries became fainter and fainter as the creature began pulling out intestines and eating them right out of the warm body.

The soil around them began to grow foul with the assailed brutal wounds, the life liquid spilling out as more organs; a fatty stomach, lower intestines and a kidney was ripped out and swallowed without a care for finesse. The white face of the cat demon was deeply red, the flavor of the color making Alastor want to walk up to the creature and lick it off his cheeks. The thought left as soon the cat’s golden teeth plunged into the sinner’s neck to rip out the trachea, ending the struggle completely. It was all over in a blink, the sinner was dead. Silent, save the droplets falling into the grass.

In the quiet, the cat demon looked over to Alastor, who just now got a view of the feline’s incredibly intelligent looking, orange round eyes. The gleamed like firelight on a cadaverous winter tundra, filled with the malice of an angry spirit. Looking at him as he remained still, Alastor could see to him fully; his grey coat was like year old soot, chest -that was covered in deep red at the moment- was stagnantly white. On his neck appeared to be a bowtie that was dirtied by the crimson...or maybe it was crimson. The deer demon couldn’t tell from a distance. The beast’s ears were set wide apart and held high atop his head. His face held a permanent scowl of a snarl.

“You’re gonna be next if you don’t get the fuck out of here.” A grizzled snarl of a voice was not what Alastor expected. It set the Radio Demon’s chest alight with something he can’t process. He huffed, wagged his cane and took one deliberate step to the feline.

“My, my quite the vulgarity you hold. I will be taking off on my merry way... for a boon, dear fellow.” His gaze stayed, eyes honing on the cat’s snarl.

“The fuck’s that gotta mean?! Piss off or I’ll rip your stinkin’ guts out!” A louder growl as he skulked closer his tail, that was not seen before now, thrashing from side to side.

“Tut, tut. A boon is merely a gift. An exchange. All I ask of you is your name.” Another deliberate step forward. His voice still audible yet dipped a slight.

“My...name? How about yours, motherfucker!”

“Certainly! My name, dear fellow, is Alastor. The Radio Demon and most possibly the most dangerous sinner in Hell,” He boasted proudly as he laughed loudly, “Now may it get yours?” The cat’s long eyebrows shot up, tail starting to stand as he examined the sinner. Pupils constricted a touch as he looked this ‘Alastor’ over.

“Never heard of you. And that’s a pretty ballsy statement coming from a wacko looking son-of-a-bitch like you. Got yourself thinkin’ your hot shit, huh? You even own turf? You ain’t that dangerous if you can’t even take down no Overlords!” The male cat laughed, and laughed hard. So hard he put his paw over his face forgetting about the blood coating it.

“You must be new... I’ve established enough territory that even these woods could be considered mine. Unless, you want to battle me for them.” A nonsensical bluff he blustered. Alastor knew better than to meddle with this sinner. His skin didn’t look to appetizing for his room tastes.

“That right? Well, color me impressed. Tell you what, we ever cross paths again I might give that little ‘boon’ of yours. Till then, fuck off or I’ll eat you next.” The cat spat as magnificent wings spread out; the feathers a deeper red than the blood of his body and longer than the cat demon’s body. They took him off the ground with such grace as he disappeared into the blood red sky, leaving the deer demon in open-mouthed awe.

‘What a joyous encounter that had been! Not one for first impressions though.’ Alastor chuckled to himself as he walked away from the most spectacular scene of madness and murder ever displayed. They would cross paths sooner than the mysterious beauty thought. He’d make sure of it.

After months of wearing the feline sinner down, the moment of a lifetime had come to Alastor. The cat ran his giant paw over his face as he spoke into his bottle of booze.

“What was that? I speak three languages but gargle isn’t one.”

Smartass.

The cat swallowed his cheap swill slowly before looking Alastor right in his eyes. “Husk.” Tone flat and deadpanned.

Falling in love wasn’t something he planned on doing, but now no one was permitted to have Husk the way Alastor did.


	2. I'd Fumble For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I worked real hard on this. It went through rigorous editing all day. Also, also I don't know if it's too long. I know it's supposed to be a prompt but I got carried away. One more thing, the song is called 'A Summer Romance' sung by Beverly Kenney.   
> You can find that here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WIMbTgOEVwc

Parties, different versions of entertainment, highly crowded venues with loud, obnoxious music was not Husk’s scene. The only silver lining that would come from being in public with a bunch of lowlives, worst of the worsts and generally unpleasant assholes would have to be the free tab on booze. 

So when Alastor invited Husk out for a night on the town, the old man thought it was going to be the same abhorrent experience of debauchery, raucousness, and vileness he grew to expect whenever he went out. 

When he saw this ‘Radio Demon’ next, his eyes were stuck on the swanky suit he sported as he opened the door to his ratty ass apartment. 

“Darling you are not going to my party like this are you?” The grinning idiot gestured to his body, making the cat look himself over. 

“What party? And also, why the fuck do you care about how I look? I don’t even like being around you, so seeing me is already enough.” Husk snapped as his tail swished to showcase his physical agitation. 

“I care enough because you are my guest! I told every Sinner in my territory about you and me, so it is a given that if you’re my beau for the night, you must look the part.” He stepped inside the house, dark red velvet coat tails tipped in gold trailed behind him as he went into the male’s living space without any actual consent. 

“Beau?! I ain’t your fuckin’ beau. I ain’t nobody’s bottom boy! So get the fuck out of my house!”

“Please, Husker...”

“What the fuck did you just call me? Name’s Husk _fuckface!_ Not Husker, not Husky, or some stupid shit like that! Husk!” He snarled at the pet name.

Alastor kept his gaze fixed on the cat the whole tangent. He became increasingly aware of the affect this feline was having on him. Golly, he wanted to get in it with the male for a great while, he wanted Husk to vent to him, or merely yell at him. What a way to thrive on his companionship. 

“Deeply sorry about that Husk, my dear. Now that you have concluded, may we get you all set for the special get together?” Alastor leant over the huffing, puffed up male. Husk was about to snarl again when something flickered up his wall. He screamed, body hiking high as a shadow swirled around his feet. 

“What the fuck is that?! What is it doing?!” The male hopped on the closest thing to get away from the black ick on the floor.

“My assistant. Don’t mind him, he just likes being in business that he has no involvement in.” Alastor tipped his head, waving his hand to dismiss the shadowy being. The thing shared the cutout physical form of the one it was conjured from, it lingering on his shoulder like a living attachment. Blue eyes squinted at the feline while skinny arms jutted out to grab at him with willow long fingers. The deer demon swatted the hands away, “Shame on you! Did I not just try to will you away? Off it now! Shoo. Leave this beauty alone.”

The thing frowned, even as Alastor held his grin. The puppy eyes not changing his mind in the slightest. An unsound huff left the creature as it faded out somewhere in the room. 

Husk went about pointing at the spot where it had been, a wobbly gargle of questions would have fallen from his frozen mouth but Alastor was already grabbing the cat up to have him prepared for the unknown event tonight.

After nearly snarling at the bastard to piss off for nearly an hour and a half, Husk was resigned to his fate. The demon made it hard for him to say no, let alone give him a physical out. He, maybe, could be able to endure a night with this grinning loon. What was the worst that could happen? 

“Ready, my beau?” Alastor bowed as he opened the door to his swanky looking car; a deep, cherry wine red mobile that kept to his aesthetic and intrigue. 

Husk’s chest rose in annoyance, otherwise not correcting the demon. He sat down on the posh, plump looking white leather seats. He didn’t feel like sitting in front with Alastor; not sure what he could possibly try. 

“You still haven’t told me about this party you have for me. Where the hell is it?”

“Oh! You’ll enjoy it! It’s quite a good time. And it’s a special surprise for you. I’m not going to just open up and tell you everything,” His claws went around Husk’s, raising it to his cheek to rub the fur there. The cat was fighting for his paw back when Alastor stated, “There is also unlimited alcohol, if that’s something you are into. What am I saying? Of course you are!!” He laughed as they pulled out of the driveway. 

Two words caused Husk to stop fighting for his paw: Unlimited. Alcohol. Maybe this Radio Demon character wasn’t as weird as he thought.

“You got wine?” Husk asked, short and simple. A faint smile coming to his face when Alastor nodded at him without looking, “Beer?”, Another nod. “Whiskey.” 

“Yes my dear. Everything and all types you can have and want! I never entertain guests with a dry party.” He snuggled deeper in the relaxed paw. 

There wasn’t much to be said after that, the cat demon sitting through the car ride, blood buzzing, chest at a rattle, fur feeling a little staticky. Perhaps this would be different.

Their arrival was around eleven at night, the allure of the blood moon added appeal to the not at all shabby joint they were at. Husk rolled down the window to listen to the sounds of an era that thrive on the songs of their time. Jazz music blew from trumpets and saxophones, scat man swayed to the beats they made on the fly. Each corner of the building glowed, more bathed in iridescent green lighting. Some came from lightbulbs in sconces, another light source were firelights in lanterns at the entrances. A black, intimidating oak door held all the liveliness on the inside. Neon words flitted in the cat’s vision; the words in bold cursive, the lettering swirling and winding over on another. He could make out the first word before Alastor put his hand on his shoulder, somewhat jostling him. 

“Let’s make our grand entrance shall we?” He hopped out the car, that Husk never knew had stopped, and opened the older man’s door to escort him out. 

“What the hell is this place?” Husk adjusted the oversized coat the deer demon gave him to cover up his outfit underneath, he felt like a dame on her first night out.

“Husker... this is my establishment for the most cultured, most affluent of us Sinners. A cabaret of illicit senses that must be sated by only the most delicious delights and decadences of the afterlife! Welcome to Lé VooDoo Parlóur. Isn’t it magnificent?!” He brought Husk in for a side hug that didn’t feel comfortable. 

“This rat house is your joint? Ha! I’ve seen better hole in the walls in the red light district.”

“Yes, but are they as ceaselessly classy as this?” He asked as he pulled up Husk’s chin to look better into his eyes, made softly golden by the effects of the lights.

Husk grumbled but thought of no other place that could be like this. He had only been to a jazz bar in Hell once, and the music was below shit quality. The booze was the only thing that kept him there, if not for the winking dandy damsel and drunk jack offs that tried to pull him from the music for a cheap thrill. He fancied himself a fella of cheap tastes and vulgar etiquette. 

“Fine, I’ll let you embarrass yourself by dragging me into this fancy hole. Lead the way.” Husk pulled on his coat as Alastor pulled on his arm to guide them to the imposing looking oak doors. On the french doors were weaved intricate spiraling patterns and odd runes that didn’t spell out anything in the cat’s language. 

Alastor knocked on both doors with a racking pattern. They waited for a moment when one came open. Husk could have imagined it came open on its own, but a graveling voice came from behind the door. 

“Password.” Very simple, too threatening.

“William. We’ve been over this. You know my knock. When you hear me knock, I enter. I don’t need a password for my own Parlóur.” The grin stayed in spite of the agitation fogging his tone. 

“Al? You’re more than forty-five minutes late. I should make you say the password just for that.” The grizzle soften a touch as a reptile demon, most likely a crocodile, pushed back the door. 

“I was getting my plus one ready. I did tell you I was having a guest,” His grin could not possibly get wider as he shuffled Husk closer, “William, this is my beau, Husk. Husk, William!” 

Husk did not want to shake the croc’s hand. It was only from reluctance he did anyways. 

“Nice. Get your ass in here. And you better apologize to your guest for waiting, Al.”

“My dear William. I owe them no such thing. The fact that showed up at all is the compensation they pay for entering my bar.” Alastor dropped his lighter overcoat to reveal his choice of wardrobe for the evening. He sported his dark red, much darker than blood, overcoat with golden stenciling over the chest, arms and shoulders. On his shoulders were long strings gold tassels, a black and red top hat on the top of his head, covering up the stubs he had as antlers. His bottoms were pinstriped and straight legged waist high pants that were tucked by a formal black undershirt. The top of his neck had been covered, showing off the black, red and gold bowtie that rest right atop it. 

A microphone stand was his choice in what Husk believed to be a cane of some sort. He looked over the gold laced coat tails of the demon’s long coat, the fabric dripping over his red and black pants. 

“Let me have your poncho, dear.” The words getting Husk out whatever weird trance he was swept in. He pulled it off to hand to Alastor. Very little adjusting had to be made for Husk’s wears for the night. From top to bottom, he was dressed in a dazzling, eye-catching red and white. Sitting atop his head, a top hat, red dominated with a silk white band laced around the felt, sat in between his ears. His suit jacket was of crimson everywhere except the lapels, a white waistcoat held him in snug yet loose by a red cummerbund, the fabric a sturdy satin. His lower half has pinstriped red, flowing pants that covered his feet, his tail swishing out in leisure. 

As they moved through the long halls the music became a touch louder. As did the conversations and laughter of a get together. He wasn’t sure what he would expect as the double doors opened.

The party was like nothing Husk had ever seen before. Let alone experienced since his time here. He half expected all kinds of raunchy, wild and vulgar manners to be presented here. What he got was a semi loud, not at all wild, flavorous swing of delights to all senses. Sinners were dancing, singing, laughing and playing on instruments all around. There was enough food and cocktails to go about to everyone. On a grand stage was a female, locks of silver, and a voice like sweet wine as he caressed the microphone like a lover at night. Her slim form was dripping from head to toe in rose red, the flowing material barely showing her ankles as she serenaded the crowd. 

They arrived as her song ended, the sinners extending her a roaring applause along with bouquets of cut flowers. She tipped in a humbled bow as she exited the stage behind a burgundy carpet. 

“Let’s get you to your seat. I have a special, private area just for the both of us.” He pulled him along as the announcer struck up a jazz band. The band was softer but played strongly. The song was more than enough for some Sinners to move out their seats with their partners for the evening. Husk barely resisted the urge to follow a fox demon in a green, short dress. 

Alastor took them behind a purple curtain to reveal a more private sector of the parlor. There had to have been at least a dozen velvet booths here. And Alastor sat him down at the one closest to a smaller stage. 

“Order what you want. It’s all on me dear. I’m going to let our guests know you have arrived.” Alastor didn’t sit as he moved away from the slightly nervous cat demon. The lights in the room were blossoming ripples of green and purple. He tapped at the marble table as he awaited a server to bring him some booze for the night. He made it a point to try and get plastered on a much free booze he could wrap his paws on. 

“S’cuse me. Ya’ll have any absinthe in here?” Husk asked over the light piano. 

The sever, a winged bat demon nodded, a smile coming to his features, “Sure. Do you want a cup or a bottle?”

“I can get a bottle?!” Husk couldn’t believe this was true. He’s always wanted to try that shit, but no lower tier liquor stores carried it, so he drowned on other things, “Then shit, I’ll have the whole bottle then.” He laughed. 

“Perfect, I’ll have that right out for you.” And then he was gone. Quite the night this would be.

The next time he saw Alastor again, the grinning shithead was on the stage. Why? Husk could not deduce. Or was just tipsy enough to not ask. But his ears perked up the demon addressed the small, private crowd.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, whether you be a Saint or a Sinner, please give me your attention,” Alastor spoke as he removed his velvet jacket to show off his red and black waistcoat. The spare creatures in the room acknowledged him, Husk being amongst them, “I have opened my long retired Parlor up for a very special occasion. And that is for a very special significant of mine that I have recently taken up as my own.” 

Oh! Oh Fuck! Oh shit! Wait, what the fuck?!

“Please listen to this very dedication that I proposed. He’s quite shy, but will come around. This is for you...”, _‘Don’t you fucking say it’_. Husk’s brain roared in dread, “Husker.” _‘Motherfucker!’_ Husk wanted to physically shuck the husky bottle of absinthe at the Radio Demon for just mentioning him. The feline put his paws over his head as the crowd awed and clapped for Alastor. He was going to fucking kill him! Once this was over, he was going to die. Again!

The band awaited for Alastor’s cue, a side glance and a nod, before beginning. The music came softly... fleeting in feeling as Alastor closed his eyes and began, 

_‘A summer romance_

_Hasn't a ghost of a chance_

_I know  
But a summer romance  
Should have a chance  
To grow_

_Septembers nearly over_

_The weather will be here  
There won't be time to live and laugh and love again  
This yearIf you and I could linger  
Until that early snow  
  
_

_Perhaps this romance might find time to grow’_

“Oh shit, oh fuck!” Husk gasped out in exasperation, wings going over his head as he listened to the lyrics. He locked eyes with Alastor a couple of times, the younger man’s smile going fond as he continued,’

_‘A love that is happy and meaning  
Because uncertain and heeding  
When weather brings its promise of  
Spring and a brand new year to love him_

_I wish you would remember  
_

_I know you won't recall_  
We have discarded  
This romance at all’

This bastard wasn’t being eccentric. Not going off like a madman about an apparent love confession. He was singing, not only singing... He was straight up serenading him. He continued the whole way through until the music and lyrics came to an end, and a loud applause and whistles followed. Husk drank from the bottle, a hard ass double, triple as it went down his throat. He couldn’t care to discern the taste; he just had to get piss drunk as fast as he could. 

“I hope you had a fantastic night! I know I sure did!” Alastor looked over at Husk, who was so drunk he ended up falling asleep on the ride home. It was well past one in the morning, so Alastor suspected that that was enough partying for one night. Alastor was so high on his new found feeling for this feline that he didn’t care about how the male cat cursed, swung and swore at him in his drunken haze. It would wear off soon anyways and then they’d make more memories. What a thrill!

The car came to a stop in front of the old male’s home, the slobbering cat too inebriated, and sleepy to move himself out of the car. Alastor tutted as he opened the male’s door and dragged into his home. He had to fish for the right key, but once inside it was smooth enough from there. And the cat demon still hadn’t awoke. He pulled him up so that he could try to make him walk up the stairs, which proved to be a bad idea. He ended up levitating the large, heavy beast into his filthy room; content to lay him atop the blankets.

“Goodnight beloved.” He pressed his face into the cat’s cheek before walking out of the room, rounding the staircase and left the home of his newfound romance. Or was it infatuation? Huh, he could feel stupid for things like these.

Husk woke up sick as fuck, some god forsaken gurgling coming up from his throat as he rushed into his bathroom, tripping over his own tail as he slumped against the toilet. He couldn’t recall he felt this kind of miserable but the absinthe being drained from his guts did make the dream of Alastor singing to him sound less real. He flushed his nasty contents before getting up. He burped, the smell foul as he headed into his kitchen. While he scampered for a meal, he found a paper letter on the coffee table by a wrapped box. He examined the parchment, sealed by red wax, then opened it. Inside the contents it read’

_**‘That song was the best, if not stupidest thing I offered up to you.** _

_**I intend to give you more than serenades at the blood moon, my Husker.** _

_**P.S I have a special treat for you. More to come,** _

_**Alastor.** _

Husk looked over the letter a couple times before throwing it, going to the box to see what this idiot had in store. What he got was exactly what he was thinking of: A full course meal, breakfast wrapped up well, still steaming. ‘What the fuck?’ He mouthed out the though, but did not much else as he went to devour the food.

Was there coming back from this dumbass show of affection? Husk thought no. There was no way he could ever think differently of an idiot in love. He was beginning to assume he’d soon be one.


	3. What Lovers (Will) Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 of RadioHusk Week! 
> 
> Alastor is becoming a bit of an obsessive after the date last night. He begins to envision himself with Husk. Doing everything with him, cooking for and with him, singing him sonata's that could make the cat's heart swing. Fantasy starts to bend reality and it is having ier consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is Day 3 of RadioHusk Week! This is fun so far and each prompt has a lead in to the next chapter. A warning now before any advancement beyond this point: The rating of this fic is about to change. I'll post it in the tags to make sure you all are aware. I won't catch anyone off guard, I hope. Still, this gets more twisted, the deeper down the rabbit hole you go. I am not responsible for any potential pain that can be/will be caused!

Fog of early morning blanketed Alastor’s mind as he skulked into his bedroom. He flicked on the lights to walk through his old estate home, like feeling like trudging through the muck to get to his bayou home, where the crickets and crawfish would lull him into an eventual rest. 

A warbling wave of static fizzled in his blood as he removed his formal wears he was in to impress his newly met partner. He knows that Husk liked it, he knows he had such a swing of a time at his Parlor earlier in the night. It would’ve been nice if the male welcomed him into his home, dark coffee and conversation be the highlight of his night. Though the night didn’t turn out that way as he was pulling the drunk cat out of his car and into his apartment to sleep of the singing, swinging, and alcohol ladened woes. He pictured Husk would wake up later on in the night. simply overjoyed about the party.

He thought a lot of what he wanted Husk and himself to be. He still didn’t even know what this was, or if he was still capable of going for it. 

He dressed down to merely his button down undershirt- fabric a salmon in color with darker bands of red- and his black trouser pants. He walked further into his master bedroom and laughing low to himself in what a mess he made of it while searching for the right fashion piece to impress the male cat with. A snap and it was cleaned, folded, pressed and sealed in the prior storage places. He settled at the coffee table near the sofa, a piping hot dark roast in his hands, the tunes of his era strumming and blowing in the background. 

_In his mind’s eyes, he and Husk were back at the Parlor, he was singing various soft tunes to his new significant as he looked to him in a softened, loving gaze. Alastor was walking off the stage, addressing his crowd, then settling right on the table, palm facing upwards as he took the paw of the cat demon. The rare beauty shone in effervescent green lighting, enough to highlight the frame in a hue of softened, harmonic light._

_When the song ended, a kiss was placed on the male’s paw. The radio demon’s smile grew wider at the way the older gent blushed._

_The ending of their night was much different as well. The older man thanked him for a wonderful, fun night out. And them on his own volition, leant in with a chaste kiss on the cheek. The cat barely got into his home when Alastor pounced on him right there, their lips caressing and winding down each other’s forms with the promise of the impending afterglow when it was done._

Alastor hummed. How strange must that feel? To have intense wantons for a man that you only met a few months ago? They haven’t even gone a second date and he’s never wanted him more. At least in the way his body does. 

A sigh permeated the soft jazz as he got up, coffee long forgotten since relaxation was impossible as the cat swam through his mind. As his mind worked, he paced. Muffled taps of his shoes were barely heard as he carted through his thoughts. He’d remain like this for sometime before heading back out to see if the male cat was thinking of, dreaming of, him in the same manner.

Next week went by as a tortoise’s pace, the radio demon having to force the thoughts of the cat out of his mind everyday of the week until he could no longer stand the separation, the fixations, or the fantasies that played in expanse. 

He went to the male’s dwelling, knowing he’d be home. Rational was abandoned. Excuses? He could find none to justify what he was going to do. He felt the snarl on Husker’s lips the moment he planted his, and it was everything the fantasies prepared him for; the balance of alcohol made the kiss taste that much sweeter. He pried his tongue inside, trying to gather what the flavor could be. He settled on a cheap wine as he shoved Husk onto a table, lifting him completely as his hands began to touch. What could he be touching? What did he want to touch? The answer to both questions... Everything. Everywhere. He wanted this male to feel wanted, desired. Conquered. In all, whether in fantasy or reality, Husk was his. And he was Husk’s. Not a power in Hell was going to take that from him.

“What the fuck! What the fuck are you doing?!” Husk shouted as he was hiked up on the table, claws going into Alastor’s clothes to bite into the clothing harshly, attempting to shove him away. His gasp was involuntary when Alastor bit down on the cleft of his shoulder, not enough to bleed but more than enough to make the male jolt. 

“You needn’t worry, my pernicious lover! Oh my, you are my vexing, delicious Sinner. And what’s more...”, He shoved his knee in between Husk’s legs, tilting him back to lie sprawled on the table, “You’re mine. Completely. Exclusively mine! No one is allowed to have you! Nothing will take you from me. This is what I want. What _we_ want!” He dove forward, claiming the words and breath from the male cat before he had a say in having either. 

Husk’s eyes glowed a color that could be described as fire before slammed his thighs shut around Alastor and lurching upward to head butt the demon hard enough to make the room spin. When the residual adrenaline starting to kick in, Husk punched the younger man right in the stomach, the ribs and in the face, the demon hitting the floor with thump and crash. 

The older cat swiped a paw over his face, wiping away the man’s kiss. He walked over to him, eyeing him before planting a firm kick to the man’s bruised stomach. 

“Kiss my fucking ass! I don’t belong to no-fuckin’body! And if you ever get it in your head that I do, I’ll fucking kill you! You hear me?!” Husk spat at the man, literally, before exiting his own home, planning on not returning for a while. 

Alastor was on his feet in the time it took Husk to open his wings and take off into the afternoon air, the sanguine lights haloing his grey fur as he flew away without a hint of where he could go. With some dignity, he wiped oil-black blood from the corner of grinning mouth, as well from his nose as it dripped. The cat had attacked him, quite blatantly at that.

Never has there been a lower class sinner that had the guile to take up arms against an Overlord. That won’t do. Alastor’s pinnacle life in Hell was the ability to sway Sinners, to take what he wanted from them and get off with not even a slap on the wrist. When he wanted something, or someone, it was his. No question or reluctance involved. Every rule was bent for him, everyone was made to be controlled by him, yet now Husk wouldn’t fall in line.

“This will not do at all, beloved. This simply is not allowed,” He drawled, wobbling static coming his heaved throat, “You are mine, Husker. Make no mistake. You are going to be mine forever.” A hiss as he leant down to pick up and fondly touch the top hat that Husk left behind. He brought it to his nose, a dark chuckle coming from him as he savored the scent. 

_"Forever..."_ Then he teleported out of the house, the hat staying him. If he were lucky, the cat would come to him to get it back.


	4. Birds of a Feather are Trapped Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor begins to feel a sort of guilt for what he had forced on Husk. So he courses the male to see him in the only way he knows how...  
> Unfortunately for he and Husk, it doesn't end well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is super late. I know how late this is! But there's nothing I can apologize for anyways since the RadioHusk week ended about two weeks ago, but I was trying to be timely. Motivation came late for this, and then came the writer's block making it worse. Digression aside, here is my next chapter. 
> 
> Also, this doesn't get better. But you already knew that. Ratings and Tags will be updated consistently as the story progresses.   
> Be prepared for that!

Alastor deposited himself atop the rough looking, silkened bedspread. Polishing off the top layer of his ensemble; merely dressed up in his salmon striped button down shirt and his casual trousers. Seeing Husker again didn’t pan out the way he thought prior. Then again, the young man wasn’t thinking proper from the start. He could blame himself, but was it truthfully his fault? 

Of course not! His Husk must, should be made accountable for the unnatural surge of desire that pumped through his quieted chest, now beating like a drum set at a jazz bar. His claws went idly around the male cat’s brimmed top hat. The details were not intricate or delicate by far; just a felt and wool exterior with a silkened lining inside of it. He flicked at the coin, testing to see if it was made of metal. The ringing twinge on the tip of his index finger made the feeling out to be real metal. Quaint. 

He fiddled with the hat for longer as he pondered how he could make himself approachable to his -soon to be- partner. He’d have to back track if Husk’s trust was to be gained. Not just his love he found out. He’d spend the rest of the evening going with scenarios in his head for the time he and Husk could meet again.

When Husk got back, it was almost midnight. He made himself stay away from his house until he was certain the sociopath that broke into his house didn’t linger. He had busied himself with something else; spent up his odd jobs labor money at the casino and bought out a hefty sum for some more of the cheap shit. He lucked out when he found a brand of absinthe that didn’t cost over a hundred dollars but doubted it would ever taste better than the ‘heaven’s kiss’ that was at Alastor’s club. 

Going to store his earnings from the night crawl, the old man walked right past a box that had been nestled on the table. Only when he turned to the table. fixing up a little, did he notice it. It looked weighty when Husk picked up, but looks felt deceiving this time around. Lifting up the tab, Husk’s eyes brightened when he saw his hat. He knew it was his from the tang of cigar smoke coming off it, and the diesel smell of alcohol. He pulled it to re-examine the hat’s condition when something else fell out of the box. He picked the parchment off the table to examine it. The letter was small, ink written, and was sprayed with an odd scent that was not easy to recognize. He squinted over it, reading;

Discovered this after our tussle. I extended it back to you as an apology. 

And as a boon. I request that I see you again. Come to see me at Arch Duke’s tomorrow night. Be as formal as you can be. I’ll be waiting... Wanting you again.

Alastor, the Radio Demon.

Husk threw the letter and went upstair to go to sleep, not drunk and too broke to deal with whatever bullshit Alastor was attempting to subject him to. No he was not going to meet him at no Arch Duke’s tomorrow, nor anywhere else for that matter. 

‘That fucker was in my house! Again!’ His mouth upturned in a growl as he slammed his bedroom door, bottle in hand as he chugged it down. He grumbled into the bottle as he laid down in bed. 

Fucking idiot. 

Against his better judgement, Husk had decided to confront Alastor again, but only to ask about why he had his hat in the first place. Why did he feel the need to give it back as a lightweight apology? Husk would have his answers as he shuffled on his dark blue slacks, clipped up with some black suspenders. He ran a comb through his chest fur, which was a first as he didn’t groom himself often. He slid the suspenders to his comfort, looked over pants and left out the door. Letter fished from the trash in tow. 

He figured he’d fly himself there but that wasn’t a choice as he didn’t know where in the hell he was going. He didn’t get out much, and didn’t go to the higher end parts of Pentagram. Considering back to his shitty, watery absinthe Husk was about to turn around, until he spotted some scribbles on the back of Alastor’s letter. So he had provided him with directions after all. Husk sighed as he took flight. The joint was thirty minutes from his house, no way in this Hell or any other was he walking. 

Alastor fussed over the menu for the third time, nitpicking himself on where he should place it. He had only seen his waiter once, the pitiful imp said he had scurried to put in his drink order, but that was five minutes ago. Or was it ten? 

Pulling out his pocket watch was becoming habitual for the young gent. He had been waiting since yesterday to see if Husk would come around. Tonight would prove whether or not Husk would give a damn about him. Would give him a second chance. So he’d wait. He didn’t care if he would wait until the rest of the dinner guests had gone, the dining room be empty and the kitchens be closed. He just had to see the feline again. He looked back at his pocket watch, then to the door. The third time that night. 

And then, he spotted him. His heat sailed as he looked the male cat over. He wasn’t anything impressive but at least he was formal. Oh, he looked so wonderful. Alastor brightened even more as the host pointed Husk to the table he was sitting at. He took a short stride to the deer demon who had been beaming at him the whole time with that adorable ass, dorky smile. 

‘Why did the cute ones have to be psycho?’ Husk inwardly asked as he sat a chair away from Alastor. 

“I placed our drink orders! How do you feel about a Martini?” Alastor spoke immediately. 

Husk merely shrugged as he picked up the menu, making as hard as possible for Alastor see his face. This was not going to be pleasant, Husk wasn’t here to be pleasant. 

“I’m so glad you heeded my letter! I was joyous about sending it and now I am so ecstatic that you have arrived. I have the whole rest of the night for us-”

“There ain’t no ‘rest of the night’. I came to humor you with this shit because you stole my hat!” Husk barely looked up from the menu, said item covering his livid expression.

“Oh... Oh dear I see. I’ve made a mess of what we are,” Alastor put his hands on the table, fingers extended, “I came because apologies are due. So, here they go... Husker. I am so sorry for the carnal way I acted to you yesterday. Such things never happen to me. I never meant to make you feel unsafe around me.” As Alastor spoke, he reached as far as he were able to try and touch the male. He retracted when he found Husk out of his reach. His tone and phrase were calm and sweet before he hung his head. 

Husk finally pulled the menu from his face, his scowl still present. When he was sure Alastor was done talking, he began. 

“Apology not accepted. Why the hell would I accept it after you broke into my house, face fucked me with your tongue, and tried to bang me on my kitchen table?”, The male cat’s eyes narrowed, “On top of that, you’re a fucking thief for stealing my hat from said house you broke into.”

“I know. I never should have touched it but I felt it was the right thing to do in returning your article. It is yours after all. I did this out of a gesture of kindness and apology. Is that not enough?” Alastor asked moving his chair to scoot closer to Husk. 

“So let me see if I got this right... you think because you steal from me and then return it to me, that you’re doing an act of goodwill. Or trying to say that what you did isn’t outright selfish. Am I at least half right?”

“Yes! Exactly!” Alastor beamed as he surged up to take Husk’s cheeks into his hands; too blissed to feel the sting of a paw flying across his face, hear the impact of the pad striking his cheek, nor flinch at the claws that raked.

The room slowed down, activity slowed down as Alastor was becoming aware again. Husk was fighting out of his hands while the maniac stared at him blankly. Creepy smile still there. 

“You’re a piece of shit, Al. Don’t you ever fuckin’ touch me like that.” Husk bore his teeth as Alastor’s left hand went to his right cheek. 

“You struck me...” Alastor’s voice wobbled, still stunned from the blow. 

“And I’ll keep striking you if ever tou-” Husk was cut off by his own wail as Alastor’s teeth sunk right inside of his nape. He continued to do so before he was slammed to the ground with enough force to rattle his bones. 

The restaurant watched the scene in ignorant awe as Husk flailed to get himself back up, blood pooling up from underneath the cat’s neck and shoulders. 

“You... You’ll never strike me! Nor will you have the ability to do so ever again.” A dangerous hiss came from the radio demon, his mouth not moving as he talked.

“Al... Alastor just relax.” Husk curled in on himself, knowing fully this will just end in bloodshed if he moved too quickly. 

“Husk! You simpering maggot, you are of me now! As I, am now of you! You belong to me. You. Complete. Me!” The radio demon boomed as his body morphed. 

Every demon shot out of their seats, throwing over chairs and tables, some puking and pissing, as they shot out of the restaurant. They knew there was nothing here that required their presence as they evacuated. 

Husk’s ears fell back so far, his hat toppled to the ground. His eyes weren’t to Alastor’s as his body transitioned. God, this was a fucked up way to die. There was nothing more to say on it; he was about to die. Plain and simple. He curled in more, flattening his body in indirect submission. He thought that if he were going to die here, he’d do it in way that was making him look as small as possible. 

A ragged gasp came coughed out by Husk as he felt nails like daggers pinch and pull at his bleeding nape. The broken sound from the back of his throat displayed the pain. Husk was unable to speak for a moment, his lungs rattling. The ground began to feel further from him, legs loosely dangled below him when he was picked up by the bitten nape. The ashen painted fur of the cat stood up even as his body languished like a rag doll. The room went dark without warning, sounds were muted and darkness enveloped the both of them. 

There was no way around it; this was how Husk dies...


	5. Pains Of Infatuation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He didn’t move, nor dare himself to do so. He had been alone in this bedroom, still aware of the presence of eyes looming to him. He hardly spoke when Alastor tried to get his attention. His tail thrashed in discomfort, bones and muscles quivering with a palpable uncertainty. 
> 
> After their fight, Husk wakes up at a mysterious somewhere, but seems to have a faintest idea of the who. He didn't die, but is he still doomed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RadioHusk Week Day 5: You're Scaring Me
> 
> Here is chapter five. It's late and I finally had gotten enough motivation to write today.   
> Please Enjoy! Also, this is a little long, but I have 'an attention to detail' curse.

Husk’s eyes snapped open, mouth opened to snort out a suffocating gasp while his limbs twitched. His eyes darted around the unfamiliar space, panic seeping into his blood as he tried his best to force his limbs to move. His legs felt like lead, arms were numb across his face. The only movements came from his heaving chest. Occasionally his ear would flick to an unidentified noise in the room. He felt alone. Shadows wriggled on the walls, dancing silently on the red, rustic wallpaper by a flame. A few flames at that. They could not have been lit for long. 

His muscles started to get feeling in them again, humming in discomfort. Husk’s head turned about, eyes going to the architecture of the room he was inhabiting. He looked off to the farthest wall housing a massive solid hickory red door. Indentations aligned, decorated the door frame in winding patterns. Then he glanced to the wall light fixtures; sconce like lighting fixtures housing electric light bulbs. Black and red wallpapers shimmered in the structure of the room. To the next wall, a sitting room. Two oddly looking chairs cradled close to the wide simple brown table. A large sized coffee table stayed in the middle of the room. 

Husk glanced down at where he was laying. He sat up slowly, allowing the fabrics to slide along his body. He felt like satin underneath his dingy fur, the deep red color blending with his wings. ‘This bed must be huge.’ Husk was sure that it was from how his feet didn’t come anywhere near the baseboard. He rolled onto his side, trying to get a better gauging of where he had ended up. He knew it was somebody’s house, but he was only with--

Husk sharply inhaled at the realization. Everything was coming back to him now. That piece of shit attacked him! He attacked him and must’ve brought him here! 

His claw went to his nape, expecting there to be pain there. His eyes widened when he felt no blood. Nothing was ripped or pulled. Nor was there a pool of blood underneath where he rested his head. He had been seen to and patched up... by the very demon who had attacked him, no doubt. So where was he? Where could that son of a bitch had gone? Before he could decide on wanting to know, Husk climbed off the bed to vacate as fast as possible. The second his foot hit the floor however, a chest rumbling growl sounded up from underneath the floorboards as shadowy forms scattered across the walls, some skittering close to the bed without touching it. 

He would have screamed in any other circumstances but, his fight or flight response switched to fight automatically at the unknown creatures. He hissed and snarled, hopping back on the bed, while his fur stood on end. His claws flew out to pummel at the figures, wings swatting uselessly at the forms as they surrounded him. All of them smiling, silent laughs, clicks and hissing. One shadow hovered a willow thin talon over Husk’s face before a static filled the air. 

The monsters fell back, some looking around for the surfacing sound, a few cowering back to whence they came, as well a select few that bowed in knowing submission. 

“Assez. Loin de vous tous.” Red aura emanated from the open door as the Radio Demon made his presence known to the shadow beasts in the bedroom. He clicked his mic stand twice, no more or less, as they fled into the crevasses of the room. Smile ever present, though he appeared to have dressed down in comparison to what he had on at Arch Duke’s; a simple black shirt that went up his neck was tucked into his pants with the showy red striped waistcoat. Long, sizable legs were covered by loose fitting trouser pants that were up to his waist. He appeared to be wearing his dress shoes still, the heels clacking nosily on the hardwood. 

His features looked far fonder in the gleaming, softened light of the soft bulbs. Features not tight, or slouchy but his posture looked perfect in its form. Shoulders fitted back, chest out, neck craned slightly upwards as a gloved hand went into his red and black locks. The young man had antlers. An arbitrary detail Husk did not see, nor ask Alastor about the moment they went out. And he wondered if those were ears atop his head as well, or were they oddly placed flyaway with his hairstyle. 

The man kept his sanguine colored, slanted eyes on Husk as he picked up his mic stand to go into the sitting room. His voice conveyed a jovial sound that Husk had heard while they were out at his Parlor. The same vacuum tubed sounding radio noises were still coming from him. 

“Rude lots I know. Always too overeager when company is at hand. Why, I remember back in the day when I hosted an outrageously popular garden party. Only so with the ghouls, but boy! Was that a doozy of a time?!” The young man laughed as he manifested an old radio. The very first one. That old ass antique that Husk’s great-great-grandfather gave up to him as a fun ‘fuck you’ gift. It looked janky but it worked well, filling the room with a swinging jazz number that got Alastor bobbing his head to it. 

“Do you like this kind of music, Husker?,” He got up from the sofa, making it over to him in a bouncing stride. He took the cat’s paw, feeling up the fur before pulling the poor old man along. Husk almost didn’t budge, stumbling over his feet as Alastor took him for a spin, “This! Oh, this was truly the music of its time!”

“The fuck’s your problem?! Get off me!” Husk snapped, taking back his paw. He glared at Alastor, who only laughed quizzically at him. 

“Is something the matter, Cher ami? Lemme make you more comfortable. As a sign of my goodwill towards you, dearest.” He was walking into the cat’s personal space, grin widening. 

Husk’s long, feathery eyebrow rose. He looked unsettled, and a bit too confused. 

“Goodwill? To me? Motherfucker, you attacked me! You bit and threw me to the fucking floor! Then-then you transformed in-in into some fucking beast! Any ‘goodwill’ you want to have towards me is over, ass clown! We’re finished!” He began to stomp off, wings flailing high in intense agitation. 

Alastor stayed still despite Husk’s rambling. He didn’t remember much before he brought Husker to his home. Though he looked in the mirror before he left Husk to rest, seeing the reddening slash marks on his cheek, where claws had bit into his face. They had long healed, not leaving a trace or record of the attack ever happening. Since he didn’t see or recall the physical marks, what Husk was going on about didn’t happen. It was a fatted fantasy in his thoughts. Another odd justification for Husk to not fall in love with him. He blinked suddenly as Husk began to walk away. An inaudible gasp puffed out as he teleported in front of the door, scaring Husk. 

“Finished? Whatever could you mean? Beloved, you’re hysterical. I would never hit you. Our relationship is so brand new! I would never jeopardize the fragile, special being we have now,” Alastor grabbed at Husk’s paw again, this time with the intent of not letting him slip away, “Why don’t you just sit and relax? Listen to the radio with me? Let’s watch a picture show together! Did you know they have them in color?” He was pulling Husk back into the bedroom to sit down. 

Husk struggled yet couldn’t pull away from the other demon. What the fuck was going on with him? He went on a full tangent about Husk not attacking him... and that was after the cat had slapped him. Did transforming into whatever thing that was wipe Alastor’s memory? He was sat down as Alastor kissed the male’s paw, his smile beginning to creep the older male out. 

“Now, stay where you are. I’m gonna make us a perfect meal!” He chuckled as he deposited Husker on the sofa. His eyes closed as he pressed his lips to the upper part of Husk’s paw, lips grazing the nails before pulling away, turning back to head out into the remainder of his home. 

‘Goddamn, this was weird. The poor cat looked over to the staticky TV in front of him. Could this night get weirder?

For over an hour, Husk just stared into the static. He didn’t move, nor dare himself to do so. He had been alone in this bedroom, still aware of the presence of eyes looming to him. He hardly spoke when Alastor tried to get his attention. His tail thrashed in discomfort, bones and muscles quivering with a palpable uncertainty. Nothing was making sense. Everything in his body yowled at him to get the fuck out as hastily as he could. But he sat there. Paralyzed with a fear he couldn’t justify. That he had no explanation for, or an understanding of. When he heard something, his ears darted right to it. Oval, crepuscular eyes looked off into what he imagined was darkness. But it moved. All of the shadows moved. Often times closer to him, on its own volition. 

“Alright beloved, I hope you’re hungry. It’s last minute and I had more than enough for the both of us to share!” He came in, setting down a steaming pot of something. It was really a something all right. The male cat’s demeanor changed as he took in the aroma of spices and herbs. He picked off the top without Alastor’s say-so; looking in greedy awe at the collection of seafood, meats and rice. All put together in a mouthwatering brick-colored broth. 

“This is my signature, dearest! My own take on my mother’s infamous Gumbo! And if you’re into that fancy, try some of her Jambalaya as well!” He laughed heartily as he whipped out another pot, peeling off the top to reveal another flavor Husk had never experienced before. 

“Fuck...there’s so much. Al, I can’t.” He sounded nervous as he looked at the assortment. 

“Now, these are just appetizers! Palate teasers if ya will. You’re gonna start doin’ flips over my Shrimp Etouffee! Oh and my Crawfish Monica!,” He pulled out a couple more dishes, both looking as hefty as the first two. One dish overflowing shrimp and assorted meats and greens, while the other was smelling delectably of cajun seasonings, crawfish brimming out of the top of the dish with tang of sauce dripping off it, “And let’s not forget about a wonderful wine to wash it down!” Alastor brought a dark red out of thin air, smiling the whole while Husk looked up at him. 

The cat’s nerves began to settle; somehow some TV, food and booze didn’t seem so bad. He could shave off an hour or two. 

He finishes his plate with a burp and the last swig of his wine. Never in his life had he ever had a meal like that. Even in his after life it couldn’t possibly be this good. Alastor made it good. He made this food good as shit. He was ready to go to sleep now after that meal.

“Did you enjoy everything?” He refilled Husker’s wine glass once more before topping off his own. He eyed the liquid as the cat nodded. He looked quite comfortable after his third glass of wine. It made Alastor chuckle knowing he had made his significant comfortable in his presence. He manifested another bottle of the red wine since Husk was liking it so much. He’d keep it on standby in case the male wanted more.

“That... That was, hands down, the best meal I’ve ever had,” Husk hiccuped as he took another sip of his newly filled glass, “Ain’t nobody able to cook like you can.” The cat snorted drunkenly. He put the glass down as he stretched his wings and wound up limbs. 

“Haha! Such praise from my significant! I almost feel bashful!” Alastor laughed, his sound so honeyed and sugary. He didn’t even care as he placed both of his hands on Husk’s thighs, the gesture seeming sincere. He moved himself closer to the none too sober cat, close enough to smell the aged well wine on the other’s breath. There were too many elements that made this moment perfect; the well made food, the fine wine. To top it all, Alastor’s mate was endeared and made full by his home cooked meal. So many more things could have warmed his heart in this moment, but he didn’t think of those things... or anything else as his lips land on Husk’s. He keeps his red, saturated eyes open, waiting for the male cat’s reaction. 

He goes in with full tongue, a soft growl rumbling forward as he pushes Husk down. His hands go everywhere, lurk on some muscles, go to the cheeks of the cat and then to his ears. He finally relishes in the kiss as Husk leans into it, showing no reservations beyond it. His talon-like claws groom the back of Alastor’s hair as he pulls him in more, lips sucking the leftover wine off them. A moan escapes and it is the best sound to grace Alastor’s ears. He gets more and more hungry as he leaves the lips to nip and suck at the male’s cheeks and neck. His hands end up in Husker’s chest, feeling for the erratic beating of his heart. His other hand goes to Husk’s waist, pulling him in closer. When he feels the male wrap his legs around him, the deer demon’s mind swims, the tethers of sanity slipping as he submerges himself in Husk. 

A wandering hand daringly goes to the cat’s crotch; and then Husk awakens. 

Previously drunken lust simmers away as he becomes alert, even shocked. He begins to fight against the young man’s advances. He couldn’t talk, too drunk to convey to Alastor that he wanted to stop. His claws go to Alastor’s wrist to try and pull him away, but the only way Alastor saw it was the cat wanted more. His teeth went into Husk’s neck; gingerly sucking at the flesh and fur there. 

Wide, bleary eyes constricted at the tell-tale feeling of the teeth, and he snarled loudly, claws flying to the deer demon’s back to rake against the skin hard enough to puncture. 

Alastor laughed into the kisses until he felt razor pain in his upper shoulders and lower back. He pulled off as soon as he felt the trickles of blood down his back. He was about to ask what was wrong when Husk shot up and bit him in the side of his head. A loud, surprised, panicked yelp came from Alastor as he shook the old man off him, blood pooling from the new wounds. He feels over the two worse marks near his monocle, on the sides of his chin. Arousal escapes from his eyes, summoning a near feral look as he snarls back with his marred grin. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Alastor snaps, his softened tone breaking with static and loud whirring. He’s angry, even through the smile, Husk can tell he’s angry.

“I’m drunk as fuck! And so are you if you think this is gonna happen!,” The cat demon begins to puff up, feathers going ragged, claws extending, hackle raised. His tail doesn’t thrash this time, the appendage curled by his feet in an arch, “First you attack me, then forget about it and now you try and rape me! You’re sick as shit, Al. You need help!!” 

He never lets his guard down-for very good reason this time- as Alastor lunges for him, teeth on full display. He towers over the older male as he snaps his teeth at him, close enough to graze fur but not grab at anything. A rippling static pulses through the room as Alastor moves to attack again, missing again as Husk’s claws hit Alastor’s side. In spite of it all, Husk remains calm. The male jumps out of the way with enough time to recover his pacing. Teeth shine in candescent lighting as he pounces on Alastor, back claws ripping into his hips. A powerful slap of talons knocks Husk backwards, the force jarring the male for a moment. A moment too long as Alastor lands atop him, teeth bared, a blackened sludge dripping to the floor, eyes shone as radio dials. 

“What have I done wrong, beloved? Just tell me,” The voice is disembodied, sounding nearly nonexistent while Alastor’s mouth looked to be stapled shut, “What can I do to make this better? How can I be better for you?!” The last word sounded like a hiss. 

Husk’s ears pinned completely, body trying its damndest to move, but locked up in a frozen stupor. “Alastor--” He tried.

“NO! I have done all of this for you! And yet you still don’t love me! What must I do to make you fall in love with me?!” Claws began to extend as they shred the wooden floor. Alastor leans too close to Husk, steam coming from in between his clasped teeth. 

“You don’t even know what love is! You’re not comprehending that all that you’ve been doing is hurting what would have made this a good relationship. I can’t love anyone like that, or even you like this! Alastor, you’re scaring me.” Husk confessed, eyes wide but steely and determined. He was scared of the radio demon for sure, but he wasn’t about to piss himself, or beg the bastard. 

The dials tuned out, deep red pupils reappearing as the form seemed to be pushed back. Said eyes did not reflect normalcy however. The seemed distant, cold feeling. He pulled himself up on his knees, one of his hands going to the undamaged part of his face. He scrubbed at his hair before getting off Husk fully.

“I scare you...”, The radio tone warbled as he turned his back to Husk, “I’m not surprised that I do. I scare everyone. I’ve always known that I do.” His last sentence had no radio filter to it, and for the first time Husk had heard the radio demon’s true voice. The room devolves into silence after that. The male cat is able to roll around on his knees as he looks at the others back. A brick wall is fortified between the two beings, the metaphoric building too strong to break by one’s will alone. 

Husk saunters away on four feet, not trusting himself to stand just yet. His ear flicks to Alastor as he turns to him.

“Where are you going?” He asks, trying too hard to salvage whatever this had become. His ears go up, listening to the loud, long sigh coming from Husk. The male cat doesn’t turn to him, doesn’t even flinch his tail at him.

“I...don’t know. I just can’t be here.” The older man sounded tired. Could have looked tired. And for all that has happened, was tired. His head was kept pointed at the door of the bedroom as he walked. He half expected Alastor to stop him, to beg for forgiveness for his transgressions. Just maybe he could see what good there could be in him. He’d be getting his hopes up if he thought that. Husk didn’t see the glowing look in Alastor’s eyes fade as the deer demon got to his feet. He knew that he didn’t move from his place, even as he clipped off a sigh of his own. Nor did he see the way his head tilted to look down at the ground in a show of defeat. He saw nothing of Alastor because he didn’t want to see him. Not this way. 

He bounded off, steps barely making a sound as he sprinted out of the house. He’d find his way out eventually, his wings catching the odd chill in the air as he took to the deep red sky.


	6. Not There, But Getting There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RadioHusk Week Prompt Day 6: Why Are You Like This?
> 
> Husk had been gone for an entire month and in his silence, the radio demon has not come to terms or found an easy way to cope. But his afterlife blends on; regardless of whether or not he'll ever see Husk again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the next chapter and I add it with great apology. I've been having a depression episode for a few weeks, but I'm doing okay. So yes, I live and breathe. No cause for concern. I wish to add a word of warning, the next chapter, and last chapter will tie this all together with some good explicit works. It'll be fun. Thanks for sticking with for this long!!
> 
> This has a bit of a time skip as to not confuse anybody. I didn't want to pan this out anymore than needed and this was long enough as is.

He moved on. Alastor bitterly mouthed to himself. Despair bit at his heart like a feral beast with icy fangs. He could feel the maw rip a hole through his chest, plunging the knives into the blackening meat over and over again. There were tiers to despair, he found out. The first one was the smoldering, unquenched fire stirring up in his bones; any movements he made, sounds he heard, voices that spoke stoked the flames until the reached into the second tier. The scorching was when the fires came out. Rage unfamiliar, intense, violent rushed out of him. It was fuel from his smoldering, the fires warring out of control, heat slithering into his mind as it ruled his every thought. It became a parasite that made him act upon irrationality. In this fit he would scream, mostly at himself, throw things, rip up and down his home upheaving many things along the way. After it was over the final tier came; snuffing. 

It came when he was tired, apathetic, emotionless to the damage he had caused. To everything; from his home to the frailty of the relationship he wanted to have. He’d lay in his bed, on the floor, he’d sit by the fireplace for an hour or so just to leer at the flames until his eyes hurt. He would go hours without the sustenance of a meal one minute, then go and binge to feel something the next. It was like this for him now; the feelings of fullness in his belly but not in his empty shell he excused for a beating heart. He wondered why his heart even kept up beating if he wasn’t well, and in truth, very dead.

His eyes sprang with droplets of what tasted like salt from his eyes on every other occasion. He’d grown accustomed to their taste and feel, so he let them fall from his eyes in silent weeps. The frontal sadness making his shake like the brittle leaves in a winter wind. The things barely clinging to life on the tree. 

When he was done feeling sorry... for anything, he’d go out on the town to his Parlor. The lively jazz and swinging atmosphere could do the trick in helping out his mood. He’d be out there all night, listening to the music, watching the girls sing and dance past him, spare a glance to a gentleman or two who wanted to hear him sing again. The radio demon became more a spectator than an owner at his club. There were no new talents he went to introduce, no drink specials, no fun dance and song numbers tonight. The liveliness sailed clean out of him. He let the club pass him by every single night. For a month straight. He did do something when he went however. He forgets his resentment toward himself on how he treated Husk. 

The feeling was to remain temporary. Each time he went home, the despair coiled inside of him again. This cycle was never going to end. 

Alastor decided to shake up his usual pity party by going further into the city. The places where he felt like he needed to spend his time were going to be much different than what he’d prefer. Not to say he had never been to some of these places before, he didn’t frequent them like the grander majority of the others. Huge grin plastered on his face, posture highly exaggerated, a simple tune playing on his lips, Alastor went inside to a cleanly looking chateaux building known merely as Champagne. The flashing white neons brought in a luxurious, risqué feel to the place. One would most likely mistake it for a brothel on the outside. 

Clear to form on the inside, the establishment was more like an extravagant lounge area with unnecessarily long lounging couches, purplish pink tile floors and tactful decorations by the walls. Every inch of the lounge was aesthetic and pleasing to the eyes, as well as varying other senses. Alastor didn’t much care for women who’s eyes were on him the second he entered the double doors. They greeted him with a superficial retail smile and a little coy giggle, a few of them tried at getting handsy yet never touched him. Other females kept their distance, but never stopped scoping out the chance to get near him.

With a flick of his wrist Alastor gestured to one of the many girls at the bar. Heels clacked on the tiles as she bent over suggestively to take his order. She was a bit tall, though the heels could keep up the illusion. Siren like yellow eyes shimmered in the neons of the lounge, her skin appeared a slight grey, or an off white and she was covered in sleek, silkened fur. Well trimmed nails tapped on an electric device before she gestured to listen, short ears swiveling to Alastor’s attention. 

Alastor kept it simple with his drink, just an Ol’ Fashioned and she was sent on her way to fetch it. Though not before grazing her nails along his down facing palm. 

The joint didn’t look too busy tonight, in spite of it being in a high traffic part of the city. Intriguing thought to not have that many sinners out tonight. This side was a prowler’s paradise. He paid for his drink, tipping his hat to the server then headed out for the night, nothing sparking his interest in the club.

Alastor went for a walk. He didn’t have a clear destination in mind for sometime. The streets appeared a bit desolate on this night, giving a visual light of how he was feeling on the inside. Save a few smaller imps causing mischiefs wherever they went nothing struck to him. His mind mumbled on how he would never get the opportunity to see Husk again, nor find out if there was anything he could do to fix the wrong. There wasn’t a use on lamenting on it now. Husk found no love in him. There was no love to be found in this beast, Alastor scoffed bitterly. His ears drooped more, perforated smile wobbling, seeming to wilt at the corners. Those same salty drops stung at the corner of his eyes. 

That cycle of misery began anew as he went as far away to make sure no others were able to see him like this. 

The park gate was open as he went through to find a more quiet area. The skies bled deeper shades of red as he went further into the woods. The shades merged with Alastor’s jacket as the shadows twisted off in the distance. His eyes went to the shadowy shaded shelter of a mighty oak; leaves not yet shed, splotches of red and oranges decorated the trunks and branches. A soft gust pulled some of the leaves causing them to rustle in a whisper. The roots appeared to be coming out of the ground, some intertwining with each other, the more few peeking out to look like a sleeping place. 

In its shadow, Alastor looked so small. Helpless, even defenseless. The salty drops rained down his cheeks before Alastor collapsed on the trunk, ears falling back totally, eyes squeezed shut in the phantom throngs on pain. His face began to hurt as he sniveled and snarled. He had never done this before. Since his eternity in Hell, nothing has ever brought him to this pain. He was invincible. A telling of power and strength. He comes from an era that projects his strength; the force and will of a man. He never saw any men around him have this feeling before. Not even his own father told him about this kind of dread, shame and misery. There’s nothing he can make of this ultimate sadness. 

He lets his feelings flow. Unchecked and unfiltered, and now it starts to make him feel different. It isn’t a bad feeling, but it doesn’t make him feel good. More tears fall, a sigh comes unevenly. The breeze caresses his stinging cheeks- no... not a breeze. He withdraws immediately to feel the feathery tell of a tail brushing against his face. He opens his eyes to peer at the flickering red plumage at the end of the sooty tail. 

“So the Radio Demon cries?” The weathered tone sounds too familiar. It’s exactly who he expects. 

Alastor looks up to see Husk, perched quietly on the top of one of the branches close to Alastor. He seems to smile at him, marigold eyes closing slow and soft as his tail swipes along the deer demon’s face, wiping away the stray tears. 

“H-Husk...,” He sounds so exhausted, in pain even, “How... H-How did you... I-I thought I was-”

“Alone?” Husk inquired, ears tilting to the sniffling of the young man. His pupils widened when Alastor nodded before slumping against the tree. Both accumulated silence, the quiet giving Alastor time to right himself while he thought of the next thing to say. Husk managed to sit up to stretch, the angle of his body creaking and crackling in discomfort. A minor shake later and Husk was climbing downwards to sit next to the deer demon. 

“So this is what a month without me reduced you to?”, Husk says pitifully, “Jesus you look like shit.” The male laughed when Alastor turned to look at him. 

“I...I normally am not like this.” He whispers, static coming and going.

“What? Sobbing like an orphan? Yeah, crying’s really hard to do around here.” Husk’s paw went to Alastor’s face, scrubbing some trails. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I never would have done that if I knew it was bound to make things worse. I can’t wrong you for hating me, for fearing me. For... despising me. I’m an overlord. I’m one of powers of occult magics and elite status, I’m just not used to being told ‘no’, or having to force myself to get a hard look at...well, myself,” The radio demon brushed back his hair, gloves a bit damp from drying his tears, “I realize now that everything I was trying just wasn’t making you happy. And if that’s something you want more of, I’ll step aside. This won’t continue, I’ll move on, if it’s just for your sanity.” 

Husk kept quiet the whole of Alastor’s apology. He felt like he shouldn’t accept it, but something about him just made his heart give. Who knew a month of stewing in your own failure did the trick in making him realize he’d been in the wrong. Husk wanted to keep brushing the tears from Alastor’s eyes, he wanted to shove himself into him and give the biggest hug that would do the best in calming him down. He wanted a lot of things, but this was just fine for him. 

Alastor. The infamous Radio Demon let his walls down, apologized openly to him. Between them now was not a barrier of mistrust and disguised discomfort. At this moment, Husk could, was feeling sorry for him. 

“I-I-I just want to make this, _us_ better. If you’ll allow me.” The deer demon lifted his left hand, holding it close enough for Husk to keep his eye on, but never to touch. 

The old male looked at Alastor’s hand and then his face. His smile was warbled and trembling. His frame looked as if it were to fall apart, crumble if a single gust of wind were to blow. He was a mess, way too vulnerable for any other Sinner to see him like this. Husk’s full moon wide eyes rippled in the night; the only light that looked natural in all of the bloody red. 

Husk’s own claw extended. Alastor watched it, unsure. He probably felt that he was going to knock it away and storm away. He had it in his head that he was beyond forgiveness at this point. This his words were just theatre and there was nothing genuine in the tangent to be shown. The thoughts vanished the moment Husk’s supple paw closes over Alastor’s willow-like fingers. 

“I’m glad that you don’t want to keep things the way they used to be. The thought being body-slammed every time I tell ya to fuck off is grating. Al, I don’t want you to go anywhere feeling how you feel now. So that just means you’re stuck with me until you get your shit together.” The cat chuckled as he pulled him in for a wide hug. His wings opened, leaning down to caress over the other man’s body.

“Wait...what?” Alastor’s response was watery and shaky at best. His body shook as fresh tears streamed down his cheeks. 

“You heard me,” Husk could feel the free fall of his own tears as he pulled Alastor in more, “We’re in this for the long haul, so you better get used to it.” He laughed as his cheek fur brushed into Alastor’s cheekbones. There was a little rumble coming from Alastor as the deer demon chuckled with him. 

“Should I ever be so lucky? Why are you like this?” The tears died down as the young man leant in further, body going lax in Husk’s assured grip.

“Like what? Funny and blunt as fuck? Years of turning my nose up at everyone and failing to care makes it that much easier.” He pulled back a slight, cheek still nestled into Alastor’s. 

“I want to start over. I owe you all of that.” Alastor pulled back to look Husk in the face.

“Don’t want that. No reason to go back to where we were. Let’s just take off from where we are.” Husk softened a touch as he pressed his forehead to Alastor’s. He sighed in contentment, his paw still holding Alastor’s as he pressed to his chest. 

“I...love you.” Alastor stated shyly. 

“Not... quite there in terms of affirmations yet. Let’s just be like this for a while longer.” Husk pulled away, eyes lulling dreamily as he nuzzled Alastor again. 

“Okay...”, The younger gent sighed softly, “Do you want to come back home with me? I’ll make you a fresh meal. With just my hands. I promise I won’t do anything.” He pulled his knees out from underneath as he tried to stand. His smile brightened when Husk nodded, his posture welcoming to the idea.

“I can eat. I’d like that a lot.” It was a simple response with a special feeling tied deep within. The gesture, the words. They had all been fine for Alastor during this time. Now he felt as if he didn’t want to move too fast in the hopes of keeping this safe. And keeping Husk happy. He’d have to relearn this type of love. Now’s a better than ever and Husk looked to be patient. 

After all, anything worth having is definitely worth fighting for. And Alastor was willing to go to war to protect it. If that’s what it all meant. 


End file.
